


Here for You

by Beewachan



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, National qualifiers, Phone Call
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-08
Updated: 2017-09-08
Packaged: 2018-12-25 05:29:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12029166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beewachan/pseuds/Beewachan
Summary: Shirabu is upset, and Osamu comforts.





	Here for You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thelabours](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelabours/gifts).



> because how can I write an osashira without gifting it to u even though this is like 2 words long

Osamu’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He reached under his desk and into his jeans to pull it out and read who was calling. 

_Shirabu Kenjirou._

“Hey,” Osamu said quietly so as to not wake his brother, asleep, face-in-book, approximately three feet away.

“Hey,” Kenjirou replied, but it wasn't a normal hey. It was a “It’s really hard to speak right now, and I don't know why I’m calling you, and I kind of didn't want you to pick up, but you did, so ‘Hey’” hey. 

Osamu, dense as can be, didn't hear what kind of hey it was. “What’s up?” 

“The sky.” 

“Ha. Ha,” Osamu replied dryly.

“I’ll be back.”

“Why are you leaving when you just called me?” 

Kenjirou didn't hear. He had already set his phone down and muted himself. He stared at the reflection in the mirror, at the stupid jersey that he didn't deserve to wear, at his red eyes. He wiped them promptly and cleared his throat before once again picking up the phone.

“I’m back,” he said, and his voice minimally shook. 

“Where’d you go?” 

Kenjirou didn't answer the question. “Shiratorizawa isn't going to nationals.” 

“What?”

“Please don't make me say it again because I won't.” 

“Uh.” There was a brief moment of silence during which Osamu’s brain went into a panic, searching for the file that included consolatory phrases, and Kenjirou had another minute of self-loathing. “I’m so sorry, Shirabu.” 

“I am, too.” Kenjirou made eye contact with himself as he spoke.

“Sorry, that was kind of stupid to say. I don't really know how to answer. Um, I’ll miss you there? I think? Is there anything I can say to make the situation better?” Osamu sputtered out words without waiting for replies; he never did that. 

Kenjirou silenced him with a “No.”

“I wish I could be there with you.” Maybe there was something Osamu could say to make Kenjirou feel better. 

“Why?”

“So I could have seen you play. So I could tell you that you did great because I know and saw that you did, regardless of the end result. So I could be there for you.”

After a few seconds to take that all in, Kenjirou asked, “Do you think I did?”

“Did what?” 

“Did great.”

“I’m positive that you gave it all you could, and there's nothing greater than that.” 

“Winning would be greater.”

Osamu answered quickly. “Winning isn't everything.”

“Whatever. This isn't some shitty, cliche fiction.” 

“I mean it, Kenjirou. What matters isn’t success; it’s learning from the experience.” 

Kenjirou let out a somewhat startled, somewhat confused noise before Osamu asked if he was okay. “You called me by my given name.” 

Osamu could feel heat rushing to his cheeks. “I guess I did, didn't I?” 

“No, I just said that for no reason.” Kenjirou rolled his tear-filled eyes.

“There’s the Shirabu I know and love,” Osamu said monotonously. 

They both tried to ignore that Osamu used the word “love.”

“You can call me Kenjirou, you know.” 

“Okay.”

“What does that even mean?” Kenjirou glared at the stupid soap dispenser because Osamu wasn't there for him to glare at. 

“It means okay.” 

“Now isn't the time to be a smartass, Osamu.” 

“I wasn't trying to be.”

“That's even worse.”

“No, I really meant that I was just saying ‘okay,’ like as in acknowledging what you said.”

“God, you're so annoying.” 

“You're so hard to please.”

“Why were you trying to please me in the first place?” 

“Because I like you.” 

“No, you don—” Kenjirou paused. “What did you just say?”

“I said, ‘I like you.’” 

Kenjirou’s gaze on the soap dispenser softened. “Like… like-like?” 

“Yes.” 

“Um,” Kenjirou began, but he stopped to look for the right words.

“Sorry, that shouldn't be said over the phone… or at all. I, uh—”

“Shut up. I like you, too.” 

“Good because I thought I just royally fucked up our friendship for a second there.” 

Kenjirou smiled. “I'm only going to say this once, so listen.”

“When do you ever repeat yourself for me?” 

“Shut up.” 

“Maybe later.” 

“Thanks for being here for me,” Kenjirou finally said. 

“I’ll always be here for you, Kenjirou.”

**Author's Note:**

> I got like 3 different hurricane warning alerts while trying to proofread fml


End file.
